Remember
by Erika Okaami
Summary: Sequel to The Frozen Affection of a Vampire. After Morganville became right, Oliver dodged Amelie, unsure if she remembered the moment that they had shared before she had lost her memory. He can't take it anymore, and calls to speak with him. Alone.


Here, requested by FireFrenzy596, 13Mv, and a couple unanimous reviewers, is the sequel to "The Frozen Affection of a Vampire". Wow. I was honesty stunned at home many people wanted me to do another fanfic with Amelie and Oliver. It isn't a pairing I'm used to writing about... but it seems ya'll like it. xD Fine with me! I hope you guys like it. I wrote and proof read it in a span of an hour. xP lol ENJOY!

* * *

**Remember**

"What is it that you have called me for, Oliver?" Amelie asked as she slipped into the nearly empty space. _Alone._

The room was nearly as black as an abyss, filled with stacks and stacks of old, tattered books that made it nearly impossible to move around the space. Oliver stood a few feet away from the door as the Founder entered. He watched as a tiny stream of light fell as a bright line across the carpet as she opened the door. She shut it slowly—ray of light fading away into nothing, slowly. Oliver tilted his head up as he examined her, taking his time in replying.

It had been a few weeks since the _ordeal_ with Myrnin's little machine that had caused many to forget up to three years ago. Amelie—unfortunately—had been one of the many that had been stricken by the odd wave of amnesia. It had caused much trouble for him, including little Claire, who had been only trying to fix things right. Oliver had been dodging Amelie since _that_ day. The day he had showed the elder woman just how much his nearly hollow heart longed for her. He had looked for signs of her remembering, but he hadn't even seen a flicker of recalling the moment—the way he had _kissed_ her. Amelie had simply returned to her normal cold, queenly self. It irritated him. All this time he had felt the want to confront her, but couldn't, for some reason. He felt that maybe he should have just left things as they were, if she didn't remember. But still… He couldn't leave it, for some reason.

"I wished to speak with you," he finally replied in a rather mellow voice. "Is that much to ask?"

Even though it was dark in the room, Oliver could clearly see the woman's eyes narrowing in a near glare.

"When you specifically ask for me not to bring my entourages—Yes. It _is_ rather much to ask," she said in her chilly, feminine voice.

The tip of his brow twitched once. It was a brief sign of inner struggle. He hoped she didn't see.

"Now, what is it?" She demanded, pacing slightly to one of the stacks of books.

Amelie was usually statue still when in a conversation. The fact that she was moving around—it was clear that she wasn't happy.

Oliver had to clear his throat before speaking. He felt… _weird_ all of a sudden, like he was nearly afraid to speak to the woman. It was unlike him, and it trigged inner anger.

"I have been putting this off for sometime—" he began. "But I want to speak with you about the ordeals that happened a few weeks ago."

During his speaking, Amelie had been running one of her pale, small hands over a book lightly, looking down at the cover with old admiration. Though—when Oliver brought up what happened to Morganville those previous weeks—her hand stopped, and she glanced up at him slowly, gaze now cold as ice.

"What of it?" Her voice was filled with inpatients, a clear sign she wasn't rather fond of bringing this up.

However, Oliver pressed on. He _had_ to know if she remembered, and—if possible—see how she truly _felt_ from that brief glimmer of affection. Hell, she _had_ kissed him back. That just wasn't _Amelie_. Briefly, he had wondered if possibly the only reason _why_ she responding toward his act, in her own way, was because of her grieving over that sentimental boy, Sam. Was it possible that she simply used him to help heal her heart over her _true_ love? He wasn't sure, and he _would_ find out.

"Amelie…" The way he spoke her name—it was far smoother, so much softer than he had ever referred to her. He watched as she stiffened for not even a second. It had hit her, in some way. "Do you… Do you remember what occurred before you lost your memory?"

She didn't look at him. For some odd reason, Amelie was glancing off into the corner of the room, not really focused, but more like she was _trying_ to bring back her memory.

Did that mean that she _didn't_ remember?

When she finally spoke—her voice was barely a whisper, more like a soft breath. "I… I'm not sure… After Ysandre injured me—things were rather… _vague_."

Oliver felt himself stiffen. He clenched his jaw. So did she or did she not? This was beginning to nag at his last nerves. He was tired of being patient and waiting for her response. He _wanted_ this woman. He could admit that. In ways, it was annoying that he had fallen for his rival, his so called _enemy_. But she was just so… _amazing_. She was powerful, strict, but also beautiful, and nearly goddess like. Sure, he had seen other good-looking women in the past. But Amelie—there was just something but her cool, gray eyes, and paled features that clicked something different inside of him. That was why he had snapped when he had seen the sheer agony of pain that had twisted her face when Ysandre staked her. Afterward, he had worried about her during the time span she had been recovering. He had tried to push the feelings away, but he just _couldn't._

He couldn't push_ her_ away.

Oliver slowly approached Amelie, closing the fairly large space between them to now only leave a mere couple feet. She didn't exactly seem like she noticed. It looked like she was truly trying to desperately understand what he was talking about.

She didn't remember…

But for some reason, it didn't really matter.

"Amelie," he spoke her name in a husky breath as he drew a hand up to brush her cheek.

She gasped, eyes growing wide before her attention snapped to him. She stared at him for a couple of seconds before she batted his hand away, now starring at him with disbelief, but also confusion.

"Oliver—what on earth?"

His hand curled—a fist—as it lowered back to his side. He clenched his jaw for a second before relaxing his mouth.

This was just too hard.

"Something is wrong with you, Oliver," Amelie said slowly, taking a step back. Though, it wasn't it fear. No. Amelie _never_ backed down from fear. It was more like she was preparing distance to be ready to all most fight. For some reason, it pained him.

He wasn't a threat anymore. Couldn't she see that? Yes, Oliver still wanted Morganville. But, if he couldn't have her, it wouldn't matter. Everything would just seem worthless without being able to be in her icy presence. He wished that she could just understand his feelings for her, without having to speak it out in clear, truthful sentences. It wasn't like him to come out straight with his emotions. It was alien, to him. This _situation_ was alien.

Oliver let out a heavy sigh. He closed his eyes, and shook his head. "There is nothing the matter with me, Amelie—Well, not in the way you are thinking," he said calmly.

"Then what? What is this odd look in your eyes?" Her voice was brief—a muse. She was staring up at him intently, trying to figure out just what was going on in his mind.

If only she knew.

Oliver opened his mouth to say something, but then clenched it shut. He gritted his teeth for a little before he finally relaxed his mouth, again. "Amelie, please. Try to remember what happened. I can't—It isn't in my will to remind you." He was nearly pleading, which made him sick.

_She_ made him this way. She made him so close to being sentimental that it made him so angry. He wasn't supposed to be this way. He was supposed to be cold, powerful, and selfish. But no. She had changed that, and now he was even being _nice_ to humans, like the children from the Glass house.

She had corrupted him.

But was it all that bad?

Amelie's eyes went off focused, again. She was attempting to pull the memory back, once more. "I—" She shook her head, focusing back onto him with a hardening gaze. "This is ridiculous. I cannot believe I came. I'm leaving." She turned, and began to do just as she said.

Oliver didn't allow it.

He reached out and grabbed her forearm, causing her to jerk back before giving him the coldest, most powerful glare yet.

"How dare you," she growled. She tried to jerk her arm out of his grip, but he didn't let her. He held on tight, only causing more anger to twist her usual stiff expression.

It hurt. It hurt to see her trying to get away, when before she had melted into him. He wanted her to do it again. He wanted her to relax and just accept him. Oliver couldn't handle the normal relationship that they had shared before. Yes… He wanted more.

He wanted the conflict between them to stop.

It was time to stop playing this childish crush, and act as a man.

Oliver pulled her toward him, ignoring her protests and yells as she struggled to break away from him. Then, as he pushed aside his inner struggle, Oliver did the same as he had done last time.

He leaned down, and kissed her.

Amelie's body instantly went as stiff as a statue. Taking her shock to his advantage, Oliver took his other arm and wrapped it around her back, bringing her closer—trapping her. That was when she started to struggle, again. Pounding her hand on his chest and pushing to get away. He ignored her fighting. Instead, he continued in kissing her, moving his lips slowly over her cool ones.

At first, Oliver _really_ thought she was going to do any means but necessary to get the hell away from him, and then probably send a army to kick him out of Morganville. But, her attempts to get away slowly subsided, and her stone cold lips relaxed to grow warm with _their_ kiss.

Knowing that she wasn't going to try to struggle, anymore, Oliver released the arm he had been holding, only to feel her hand now trailing up his chest. It sparked something inside of him. _Want_.

He kissed her harder, making her moan as their mouths moved it unison. He wasn't sure if she remembered what had happened before, but it was now clear to him that she _did_ feel something for him. This wasn't just an act to get attention to her heart. No. This was just something _more._

But then it was over.

Amelie moved both hands to his chest and pushed away with all her might. He let go, allowing her to use her speed to cause distance of feet to form between them. She stared at him, something that he couldn't exactly read gleaming in her now life full eyes. Even though he was a cold being, his lips felt warm, _hot_ from hers.

It was amazing…

"Don't you ever do that again."

Oliver blinked for a moment, taking in her returning powerful voice. He stared at her for some time, then, anger brewed inside of him as a growl rumbled in his chest.

_What_? What on earth was she going about? She had just _kissed him back_! Was she going to push him away, just like Sam? That boy might have been a softhearted fool that gladly followed Amelie's wants, but Oliver was not. He _would_ have her, whether she wanted him to, or not. He was the type of man that _always_ got what he wanted.

His rage was taking over him, now. Oliver's hands curled, at his sides, into tight fists. "Amelie, what are you—"

"I can't do this…"

He stopped. Her trembling, soft,_ hurting _voice had thrown him off. That was when he finally focused onto her now breaking face. It was so… _saddened_, nearly grim with growing wet eyes.

Just what was wrong with this woman, tonight? This was the most bi-polar he had seen her, yet. The way she was looking at him… It was as if he was the cause of this.

It took his all to not get angry. For some reason, seeing her sad gave him control.

She touched him, some how.

"Amelie, what is wrong?" He asked. He didn't exactly sound sincere, but it wasn't harsh, either. "What are you talking about? You are now not—"

"Oliver, I do not want to have anything to do with you," she interrupted. He stared at her with disbelief. "I remember everything. All right? I remember the way you had kissed me, weeks ago. I remember how you showed your feelings for me. And yes, I admit, I_ feel_ something for you, Oliver. As crazy as it may seem, I do—" The look in her eyes—she wasn't lying. "But, I can't handle this anymore. I cannot handle _love_. I don't want it anymore. All it does it cause me pain, and throws me into more despair. _Loneliness."_

Amelie stopped, due her now trembling body, and voice. She couldn't go on, he could tell. The tears that she would not allow to fall her halting her speech. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, taking in a breath of air before releasing it slowly, just as she looked at him, again.

"I want to be alone. That is all that I want."

For some reason, Oliver chuckled. At first, it was clear he threw her for a loop. Then, a wave of anger flashed into her eyes.

"You want to be alone?" He echoed slowly, glancing off into space for an instant before coming back to reality. "That is a joke, Amelie. You _can't_ be alone, and you know it. You can't handle it. You are a sentimental woman. Admit it. You _need_ others. And I know what you're thinking. You believe that if you fall for me, I'll leave just as Samuel Glass did."

That hit her. _Hard_.

It wasn't hard to tell that everything—from living, to death—about Sam had flashed in front of her face like a cold splash of water. Amelie stiffened, and the tears were nearly coming. They were just about to fall. He wondered how long she could keep them back. He wondered how long it would take her to finally shatter.

He took this to his advantage.

Oliver approached her, taking her hands up into his two palms. He stared into her eyes, and she stared into his.

"I will not leave you," he said. "I know you do not wish to hear this, but unlike Sam, I am strong, Amelie. I am far more powerful, far more of a man than him."

She stared at him for some time, and he nearly thought—he nearly believed he had her, her heart.

But it was too good to be true.

Amelie pulled her hands out of his, and he felt some how abandoned. _Alone_. She looked into his eyes, gaze flaring with power, and truth.

"You're wrong," she said. "You aren't even _half_ the man that Sam was. He was kind, caring, and a true warrior. He fought for my love, until the end. It was my fault for what happened, and I accept my punishment of loneliness. I will not give my heart to you, Oliver. _Never._ Sam has already taken it, and now keeps it. In his _gave_." Her words struck him like a bullet to the heart. "Sam is the last man I shall ever love. Do you understand me? The next time you decide to come at me in such a barbaric way, I _will_ have you killed. And if you escape Morganville—well, there isn't far for you to go."

And with that, she left. She turned, opened the door, and left, slamming it to nearly breaking it off of the frame. Oliver stood there, staring at the door, as if it would bring her back. His hands finally fell, and his focus went entirely off. His shoulders actually slumped, and his head fell.

Oliver had wanted her heart, but it was clear that he could never obtain it. Sam had gotten to her first. That fool at taken it before he could. If Oliver had made a move when he should have—Amelie would be his, _right now_. But it was too late. It all was too late, and he would have to accept that.

No. There was a part of him that _couldn't _accept it. He _still_ wanted her. He wanted her to submit to him and be his. At first—when he had been recovering after the conflict a few weeks back—he had decided to forget his want for power over Morganville, to take it from _her_. But now, as he stood in the room, alone, he realized that he would _have_ to push her off of her thrown to get _her_. And he would do it. It didn't matter how long it would take, but one day, she _would_ be _his. _

Oliver's head raised, darkness flashing inside his eyes before he finally took steps to make his leave from the dusty, book cluttered room.

* * *

Well, whatcha think? Not what you expected, was it? Sorry if it disappointed you, in some way. I am honestly more of a amelieXsam fan, so I'm like "nyu! Sam!" And I really can't seem Amelie really going for Oliver... I can see her admitting that she has feelings for him, but not to the extent of becoming lovers with him. They just have too much conflict. (Which can be fricken hilarious!) But- eh, you never know, Rachel Caine could prove my theory wrong. xD lol Please tell me what you thought in a lovely review! I will so love that! Expect more MV fanfics from me soon, maybe a multi-chaptered one too! I'm starting to brain storm for ideas for another one...


End file.
